


Merry Ex-Mas

by spicytofuuuu



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Exes, Exes-to-Lovers, F/M, Holidays, Pining, Sexual Content, Snowed In, Winter, exes fake dating to please the family, it's cold so they should keep each other warm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28249977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicytofuuuu/pseuds/spicytofuuuu
Summary: Tell me something I don’t know.They used to play this game before. Back then. While they lay in bed, waiting for sleep to consume them.“What do you want to know?”There’s a hundred questions she wants to ask him.Tell me about you. Everything I’ve missed out on. How are you? Have you been eating well? Do you think of me the way I think about you? Do you hate me for what I did to us? Do you wish you never met me to begin with? Have you moved on? Why didn’t you tell your parents about us? Do you still love me like I love you?“Something,” she lies, “Anything.”(or: an exes-fake-dating-to-please-the-family au, with a side of snowed in and a splash of pining)
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 112
Kudos: 535





	Merry Ex-Mas

Rey’s day is off to an excellent start.

Her entire McDonalds drive thru-order is entirely paid for by a stranger in the car ahead of her in the pay-it-forward spirit of the holidays (even though Christmas isn’t for another week).

Then, she checks her email to see that her latest eBay bid of 150 bucks was accepted, and she’ll finally get her hands on Finn’s Christmas gift: the limited edition _Dwight Schrute as Recyclops_ Funko Pop that he’s been eyeing up for the past five years.

If that doesn’t make her the best roommate (and best person ever), she doesn’t know what will.

If she hadn’t been blindsided by the free breakfast wrap and coffee, and the fact that she was able to finally get a reasonable deal on a plastic figurine—some folks asked for 400 dollars, _the audacity_ —she might have noticed that things are currently too good to be true. Maybe she would have been able to prepare herself for when the other shoe inevitably drops.

But she hasn’t.

She pulls into the parking lot at work, scoring a decent spot for once—another win in her book—and that’s precisely when her phone rings, the familiar name on the caller ID flashing through her cracked screen. (She should really get a new phone in the new year. With the amount of overtime she’s been offering to work recently, she has the money for once in her life.)

She takes in a deep breath—and four more—and accepts the call, unsure of what to say or how to behave.

Turns out she doesn’t have to say much, because Leia Organa-Solo does most of the talking for her.

“Hi, Rey! How are you, my dear?”

“Oh, hi, Leia! I—Uh—I’m fine.” She chews on a cuticle, hoping to hide the growing nervousness in her voice. “How are you?”

“We’re doing great— Han, can you stop grinding the coffee beans? I’m on the phone with Rey.”

She hears the muffled agreement and a gruff, distant greeting.

“Han says hi, by the way.”

“Hello.” She says, almost shy.

“Han! Rey sends her regards!” Leia yells away from the microphone, but that doesn’t stop Rey from pulling herself away from her speaker. “Anyway! I was just phoning—Are you busy right now?”

“Oh, no. I’m just in my car.”

“You’re not driving and talking on the phone are you? Because I’ll phone again. That’s just not safe. It’s distracting even when you young kids have those fancy handsfree Bluetooth speakers. You know what, I’ll just—”

“No, no.” She quickly interrupts the older lady. “I’m actually parked. I’m just about to head to work in ten minutes.”

“Good! I won’t be taking too much of your time then.”

“Okay?”

“Are you working this Christmas? I would think the shop would be closed for Christmas, no?”

“The shop’s open for Christmas, but I just so happen to get time off this year.”

Rey actually took two weeks off because she’s worked too much lately and never took any of her allotted annual vacation. In fact, she was _forced_ to take two weeks off by upper management.

“Great! So you know how we have that cabin upstate?”

Rey’s unsure of how to navigate through this conversation, which is starting to shape up to be an awkward one—for her. Leia seems to think everything is fine.

She _mm-hmms_ , prompting Leia to continue.

“I was thinking that we should do Christmas there, and you should definitely come along.”

We. _We._

If Rey has to describe her mental state right now, it would be awfully close to static noise. So she squeaks out the bare minimum. “Oh?”

“Yes, and Nana Padmé’s going to be there too. And so is Luke, I think. He’s still doing his yoga retreat in Bali and I haven’t really gotten a hold of him yet, but he’s flying back tomorrow and I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

“Leia, I can’t—”

“Nonsense! Sure you can.”

“I—”

“I’ll send the details to Ben and I’ll see you next week? You know, Nana’s not getting any younger, and if her last health scare taught me anything, it’s that time is precious and we have to spend it wisely with the ones we love. Right?”

“Right, but—”

“No buts, dear. You know how much we adore you, and Nana would love to have you there.”

Rey lets out a shaky exhale, and Leia picks up on her uncertainty through the phone, although the older woman can’t know why Rey’s so nervous.

“And don’t worry about gifts or anything. Just bring your lovely self. And some warm clothes—it gets a bit chilly up there!”

“Leia, didn’t Ben—”

“I have to go now, Rey. My Aquacise class starts soon and I’m afraid I’m running late. See you next week, darling.”

_Click._

Fuck.

***

So, there are several things wrong with Leia’s whole family-Christmas-in-the-cabin-upstate plan:

First of all, Christmas is a big deal. Spending Christmas with a family that isn’t yours (not that she has a family to begin with) is a big deal. At least, that’s what years and years of Hallmark Christmas specials have told her.

Secondly, even though Leia said no gifts, Rey is not one to show up to a Christmas gathering empty handed. So now she has less than a week to buy presents and wrap them up for Leia, Han, Nana Padmé, Luke, and Ben.

 _Ben_.

The biggest issue of them all, the crux of the matter, is that Rey broke up with Ben two months ago.

Fifty four days and seven hours ago, to be precise.

 _Fucking motherfucker fuckity fuck._ How on earth did she get to this point. And why? Did the universe (and one Leia Organa-Solo) not get the memo on how hard it was to try to move on from Ben and thought it was just the funniest thing ever to concoct this plan and hurl it her way?

Rey could barely get a word in, couldn’t even tell Leia that she had broken her son’s heart (Although that conversation would be terrible, and she thinks it’s probably better that she never told her. For now, at least.)

On top of that, Leia managed to guilt trip her with the whole Nana Padmé thing, and now Rey feels like she has no choice but to actually go, because if anything, she hates disappointing people. Especially people like Ben’s family, who made her feel more at home than anyone else ever has, and during the ten months that they were together gave Rey a taste of what life’s like with a _real_ family.

Her thumb hovers over the screen, over the name _Resist Temptation_ , peeling the dry skin off her chapped lips with her other hand to calm herself down as she practices her words in her head. She feels her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and a voice whispering _this is the second shittiest idea you’ve ever had—right after dumping Ben in the first place_. She’s not sure whether she’s more nervous about Ben picking up or what’ll happen if he doesn’t.

She takes a lungful of breath and presses down on his contact to dial before she loses her courage.

Barely a ring goes by before a soft, familiar clearing of the throat fills the empty airwaves.

“Hi, Ben.”

“Rey—Hi.”

Hearing his voice makes her feel like the giant boulder that’s been sitting on her chest for the past fifty four days (and seven hours) has rolled upwards and lodged itself in her throat. She squeaks out another weak _hi,_ before she remembers that she already said that, and now she sounds dumb because she said it twice in the last three seconds.

“I didn’t expect you to call.”

And with each passing second, she second-guesses every single thought that led her to this exact moment, before she tries to collect herself and says, “I didn’t expect to make this call either.”

Neither of them said anything for a while. The silence is deafening. Rey can start to see her breath forming as clouds inside her car. It’s below freezing outside, and she really needs to start talking before the temperature dips further inside her shitty Corolla.

She leans her forehead against the steering wheel, eyeing the golden dice charm dangling over her rear-view mirror—the charm Ben’s dad gave her when they helped his parents clean out their attic in the summer. (Why did she not take it down? Why did she only notice it now?)

She hears him moving and shifting around, and in her mind’s eye she can see him fiddling with the miniature zen garden he keeps at the top of his dresser, the sound of the tiny rake scraping across the sand. “How can I help you, Rey?”

“Are you busy? Did I catch you at the wrong time?”

“No, I have a bit of time before I have to leave for the office.”

“Oh—That’s early. You usually don’t start till—” She stops herself. She doesn’t get to _usually_ him anymore.

“Yeah.” He says, “I’ve changed my hours. Recently.”

Her heart pangs. For reasons she doesn’t wanna delve into right now.

“Cool. Uhm—so—here’s the thing. Your mom phoned just now.”

“She did what now?!” His voice goes all pitchy.

Leia obviously did not run any of her plans with her son, which shouldn’t really surprise her. Leia does things without consulting anyone, with her _my way or the highway_ mentality, and tends to just figure out the logistics (and ask for permission, or even forgiveness) later. Rey admires that about her, but right now it seems like her son is about to lose it.

“Yeah. Uhm—so—let me just cut straight to the chase. It seems like you forgot to mention to her that we broke up?” She rubs her sweaty palms against her pants, desperately trying to create some friction to generate a little bit of heat. “And she’s invited me to spend Christmas at your family cabin.”

“Oh my fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Ah, it’s fine.”

“I really am. I’m just going to give her a call and tell her that that’s not happening and—”

“Ben, wait!” She knows what she’s about to say is ridiculous, but the last two months have shown her that she’s nothing but ridiculous, so she might as well commit herself to it. She takes a deep inhale and blurts out, “I think I should go. Or—I want to go? I mean, only if you’re okay with it, obviously.”

“Why?”

It’s ironic, really. And the irony is absolutely not lost on her. She dumped him and now she wants to go spend Christmas with him and his family? Christ, he must be glad they broke up, because who would want to be with someone this fucked in the head?

“She used the Nana Padmé card on you, didn’t she?” He guesses.

“Kinda.”

“And you hate disappointing people.” His tone is accusatory, and a wave of guilt overcomes her because she remembers that she disappointed him first and foremost.

 _I don’t have time to date right now,_ she remembers telling him. _Let’s just pull the plug on it now, okay?_

“Fuck.” And that’s all he says for a while, until she hears the jingle of keys through the phone. He must be leaving for work. And then a soft thud. “I think you should come, too.”

“You don’t think it’s a terrible idea?”

“Of course I think it’s a terrible idea. But I can’t really break their hearts, can I?”

She holds back a smile, not that Ben can see her anyway. She thinks of how soft and sweet he is underneath his callous and grumpy exterior.

“And after Nana’s shitty year, she deserves the perfect Christmas. I—I’ll just tell them about the break up after.”

“Yeah,” she whispers softly.

“You sure you want to do this, sweet—” He stops himself. Part of her wishes he’d continue, but she has no one to blame but herself for the forced formality that comes out of his lips when he switches to address her by her name, “Rey?”

No, she really isn't sure. But if she’s going to lie to Ben again, she’s going to do it to make his family happy. That’s the _least_ she can do.

“Yeah, Ben. I’m sure.”

***

They iron out the details over text for the next couple of days. Rey has to stop herself from getting too giddy whenever he texts her, and she tells herself to wait at least twenty minutes before replying. And she needs to make sure she doesn’t send him the heart eyes emoji. Or the yellow heart emoji, like she did all the time when they were together.

Ben will pick her up at 4 PM on Christmas Eve, and they’ll drive together to the cabin. It’s only two hours away, so the car ride is going to be manageable. She can be strong enough to not reach out for him to tuck a strand of stray hair behind his ears. Or to lace her fingers around his. Because he won’t reach out for her, because he won’t rest his hand on her thigh.

Once they’re in the cabin it’s going to be great. It’s only going to be for two nights, and the whole family’s going to be there. Hippie Luke will undoubtedly regale them with the latest tales of his yogi adventures, and what new food group he’s cut out from his diet. And Ben will undoubtedly roll his eyes at him. And Rey will be able to bake some cookies with Nana and Leia, and talk shop with Han. That’s always fun.

There’ll be enough people around to dilute the tension between her and Ben.

It’s not going to be a big deal if they don’t act too lovey-dovey and get all physical, because it’s a family event and it’s not the appropriate time nor place for public displays of affection.

 _It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be fine._ If she tells herself that enough times, it will come true. She’s manifesting it. That’s how that works. Right?

 _Wrong_. That’s not how it works. Chanting positive reinforcements to yourself does jack shit. Because on the drive upstate, the snowfall begins to descend at an alarming rate. There’s only a single lane up the long and winding uphill road.

The road is icy and slippery, and darkness consumes them with the exception of their own high beam light piercing through the unexpected snowstorm. They pass by no less than four cars buried in the ditch, and Rey is so grateful that Ben offered to drive his all-wheel drive Range Rover because there is _no way_ her dingy car would make it through in this condition.

They don’t talk. Not really. (Unless you count the awkward small talk she tried to make by complimenting his hair. _Yeah, it got too long so I got it cut_ , was his response, before he decided to turn on the radio.)

Christmas music fills the air, intermingling with the thick palpable tension you could cut with a butter knife. She tries to hold back from full-blown karaoke in the car, but eventually the temptation grows too strong and she starts to sing along to _Little Drummer Boy._ She doesn’t fail to notice that Ben joins in by softly tapping a beat against the steering wheel. While Ben hums through _God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen_ , Rey closes her eyes to capture and memorize the warmth resonance of his voice. By the time _Baby It’s Cold Outside_ comes on, the awkwardness between them seems to melt a little bit when he mutters how creepy the song is under his breath and she tries to change up the lyrics to make it less so, both of them chuckling through the song. It all comes to a screeching halt when _All I Want for Christmas is You_ plays next. Neither of them makes a noise as Mariah Carey belts it all out.

_Back to square one._

Rey digs her fingernails into her palms as she eventually attempts round two of small talk and says, “I swear last I checked the forecast, it was supposed to be normal winter weather and not this.”

He hums noncommittally, eyes on the road.

A couple beats of silence passes before he cracks his knuckles one by one, grinning through each satisfying pop, and she opens her mouth to tell him to stop. She wants to tell him that it’s a terrible habit and he’s going to get arthritis. And she wants him to tell her that that’s a hoax, and that there’s no scientific evidence proving that theory. And she wants to tease him for being a know-it-all. And she wants him to tell her to stop being so bossy. And she wants to kiss him silly to shut him up.

But she can’t.

***

Rey’s been to the cabin before. Once. In the spring. Right before Easter.

Leia accidentally left the electric crepe griddle there and she absolutely _had_ to have it for the Easter brunch. Ben volunteered to go get it because he wanted to show Rey the cabin anyway.

So they went as the flowers bloomed and the trees regained their greens.

It’s one of her happiest memories with Ben. They never quite left the cabin over the weekend, despite Ben boasting about the breathtaking scenery and beautiful hiking trails available around it. They were too caught up in one another to care.

Everything she wanted to see, all she wanted to experience, was right there in the room with her.

***

“Holy shit.” Ben mutters as they get closer to the cabin. The car slides one last time as they turn past the rusted red mailbox with _Naberrie_ painted on its side.

The two eighteen feet white spruce trees right on the edge of the driveway are fully decked in multicolor Christmas lights, and Rey presses her nose against the window to take it all in, her breath forming condensation against the glass.

“Your family is taking this Christmas thing very seriously, huh?”

“I wonder when they had the time to come do this.” He looks just as marveled as he ducks closer to the windshield to appreciate the view.

Clear icicle lights attach around the cabin roof line and decorative lanterns sit on the steps, a welcoming glow amidst the frosty mist.

Ben turns off the ignition and squints his eyes on the giant inflatable creepy-looking Santa standing right next to a lighted reindeer family that’s set up around the porch, clicking his tongue. “That’s one gaudy monstrosity right there.”

“Ah come on, lighten up, Ben. ‘Tis the season!” She playfully slaps him, a move she immediately regrets the moment her palm lands against his bicep.

“You’re right.” Ben gives her a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and she feels her heart in her throat. She hates that he’s not arguing with her, and she hates that he is giving her that look.

Most of all, she hates the fact that she has no one but herself to blame.

Ben’s phone starts to ding non-stop as he steps out of the car, and mutters under his breath as he bites a glove off to type, furiously smashing his response on the small screen with his thumb. (She thinks it’s unfair that he can reach the far left side of the keyboard without using two thumbs and that he looks ridiculously endearing when his giant paws make his regular size phone look like a child’s toy.)

She follows him out of the car to stand beside him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, watching large, fluffy snowflakes fall and stick on his eyelashes. She tries to read what on earth he could be typing through the reflection on his eyes. She’s just curious and definitely not at all jealous.

_“Furk! Shish!”_

“Huh?”

He pockets his phone and puts the glove back on.

“Bad news.” He grabs his bag—a leather weekender with _BCS_ neatly monogrammed on its tag—and hers—a ratty pink Adidas duffle bag on its last legs—from the back seat, slamming the door shut with a kick of his leg. “The snowstorm is still going hard, and they’ve released an advisory to not travel through the highway for now.”

Rey quietly tugs at her duffle bag. She can carry her stuff by herself, after all.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry. Uhm—here you go.” He passes it to her awkwardly before continuing. “The rest of the family won’t be getting in tonight. They’re still in the city.”

Fuck. So she’s going to be with Ben. Just the two of them. Alone in the cabin.

Her mind flickers through the memories of the last time the two of them stayed here,and she has to shake them off, because Ben is staring at her as if he can hear her increasingly indecent thoughts.

“Ah.” It comes out more as an exhale than anything else.

He guides her towards the house, their boots crunching through the thick layer of snow, and fishes out a ring of keys from his jacket pocket to unlock the front door.

The moment they step inside the cabin, they’re hit by a wave of warmth and the rich, cozy smell of pine needles and cedar trees.

There’s not a lot of decoration inside the cabin itself compared to how it is outside. Just a small garland hanging above the fireplace and a Christmas tree nestled in the far corner of the living room.

Ben interrupts her silent observation. “So…”

“So…”

“Since my family won’t be here for the night, I think we can just sleep in separate rooms.”

She nods. Truth be told, she completely forgot about the sleeping arrangement because she was too busy being stressed out about the drive.

“I’ll take Uncle Luke’s room. You can sleep in my bed—bedroom. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow when we get there. When they get here.”

“Are you sure?” She fidgets, “I can take Luke’s room.”

“Nah. It’s fine. You’re more,” he pauses, “familiar...with my room anyway.”

She’s _definitely_ familiar with his room, alright—his bed, specifically.

Her breath hitches and she hopes he doesn’t notice it. Or the blush that’s surely forming on her face, mirroring the one blooming on his.

He clears his throat, “Anyway. It’s getting kinda late. I’m going to shower and head to bed. Good night, Rey.”

“Good night, Ben.”

***

Sleep doesn’t come easy, and she spends the first two hours tossing and turning in bed, Christmas lights outside filtering through the curtains. It doesn’t help that she’s also stressing about their sleeping arrangement tomorrow night once everyone else arrives. How they’ll have to sleep in the same room to maintain the façade of still being in a relationship.

She wishes his family was a little bit more traditional, a bit more conservative. Like the people who would expect unwed couples to stay in separate rooms and remain abstinent. But they’re not. Far from it, actually. (Ben had told her about his eighteenth birthday gifts from his parents: a box of condoms from his mom and _You’re a man now, kid_ pat from his dad.)

He’s probably going to insist on sleeping on the floor, but Rey knows that Ben is not going to be in a good mood for the rest of the day if he doesn’t get a good sleep, so she’s going to insist on taking the floor even harder. She eyes the pile of comforters in the closet that she can use as a makeshift bed. And she knows she’ll be fine, she’s had to sleep on worse conditions before after all.

Eventually she tires herself out from practicing her arguments and falls into a fitful slumber, only to be woken up by the chattering of her own teeth.

She wraps the blanket tighter against her chest, tucking her socked feet against her thighs and curling her body into a small ball, but the cold seeps into her bones regardless.

There’s nothing but darkness all around her, and for once her brain works fast enough to figure out that the power must have gone out. Which is _perfect_. The cherry on top of the terrible sundae that is this shitty scheme of a Christmas scam.

Turning on the flashlight from her phone and gingerly walking down the hallway, she listens closely as she passes Luke’s room where Ben is most assuredly sound asleep. He runs hot like a furnace, she doubts the cold is bothering him. At least not yet.

She tries to start the fire in the living room, not that she knows how to. And it’s not like there’s enough reception to find a Youtube tutorial either. So like everything other shit that life has decided to throw her way this past week, she decides that she’s going to wing it. It shouldn’t be too hard, she figures, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that no wood means no fire.

She eyes the little shed outside that houses the extra firewood. It’s not that far and she figures she can make a quick jog there and back in her current attire of long johns—featuring cute llamas wearing Santa hats which is most definitely ridiculous, but a Christmas essential—and knock-off Ugg boots that have started to lose their tread and general shape because she keeps shoving her feet in without properly tugging them on. (Truth be told, she’s too lazy to go back upstairs to grab her coat.)

 _Dashing through the snow_ , she sings in her head, although she’s not so much dashing as she is trudging with an inordinate amount of effort, because she definitely did _not_ account for the foot of snow that accumulated in the past couple of hours when she plotted her trek.

Another harebrained idea. What a surprise.

She stacks a pile of wood, hugging the logs against her chest, and makes her way back to the cabin.

By the time she gets in through the front door, feet drenched in melted snow and freezing her fingers and toes off, she’s greeted by one awfully bewildered and panicked Ben Solo holding a flashlight. One Ben Solo that looks like he’s about to burst into tears.

“Ben?” She drops the stack of wood off to the side. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t reply, probably because he can’t hear her that well considering she’s saying the words through her shivering lips.

“What’s wrong—”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because he pulls her close into a tight embrace. She can’t help but notice how much he smells like coffee—she wonders if he had another cup before going to bed—mixed with that comforting spicy scent from all the cinnamon gum he’s been chewing since he quit smoking.

His chin rests against her head, warmth surrounds every inch of her being while her arms flops uselessly at her sides.

“I woke up and couldn’t—I couldn’t find you. I was worried that I lost you,” he mutters lowly, quiet enough she doesn’t think she’s supposed to hear it, “Thought you left and I—I can’t—”

She feels some dampness forming on her forehead, and she knows it’s neither sweat nor snow.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.” She loops her arms around his waist, rubbing his back in a circular motion. “I’m cold, but I’m here.”

In the blink of an eye, he snaps out of the moment and abruptly steps back. His hands remain on the side of her arms.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“What?”

“What. The. Fuck. Were. You. Thinking.” He enunciates every single word, harshly, as if she’s a misbehaving child. And if there’s anything Rey hates more in the world other than the taste of cilantro or having to fold laundry, it’s being treated like a child.

She shakes his hands off her body.

“Well, the power went out,” she gestures to her surroundings, her flashlight hitting the space like a disco light. “And it was fucking cold, and I got us firewood. So a little bit of thank you would be nice.”

“You—You should have woken me up!” he says, exasperated. “What if you slipped and fell outside? What if I didn’t wake up in time and something really bad happened to you?”

“Nothing bad happened, did it? I’m fine!”

“I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen—” He stops, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a couple of deep breaths, shuddering through each exhale.

“I’m fine, Ben,” she whispers. “I’m fine.”

He looks at the stack of wood by her feet. “Do you even know how to start a fire?”

“Do you?” She purses her lips, challenging him.

“Yeah, I do, actually.”

 _Of course_ he does.

***

The fire burns low. Ben crouches in front of the mantle, occasionally poking the logs around to rearrange them.

Rey stretches her fingers and toes closer to the fireplace, rubbing her hands together furiously to generate some extra heat before covering her ears to warm them up.

“Are you still cold?”

“Yeah, quite—”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence before Ben takes off the hoodie he is wearing, leaving him with only a soft, cotton t-shirt that hugs the expanse of his chest.

“You can wear it,” he offers the article of clothing to her, eyes still trained on the glowing ember, “If you want.”

She tugs it on, embracing the softness and warmth that immediately envelopes her and assaults her senses in the best way possible. It’s a hoodie she’s familiar with. The one she regrets not stealing before their break up. And it feels like comfort and safety and most of all, home.

A home she can’t and shouldn’t keep, because that home is just too out of her league. Too smart, too kind, too accomplished, too sweet, too beautiful. So she does herself a favor; she takes herself out of the equation before he realizes it first.

***

Ben grabs a thick blanket and lays it down on the floor for cushion. They sit side by side , watching the flames dance around inside the fireplace. They’re closer than they should be, but not close enough.

_Never close enough._

The silence looms large, accompanied by the occasional crackling and the wind that howls through the trees.

It’s going to be a long and painful night if none of them talks, so she says, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

They used to play this game before. Back then. While they lay in bed, waiting for sleep to consume them.

She doesn’t miss the way he startles at the sound of her voice.

“What do you want to know?” he asks.

There’s a hundred questions she wants to ask him.

_Tell me about you. Everything I’ve missed out on. How are you? Have you been eating well? Do you think of me the way I think about you? Do you hate me for what I did to us? Do you wish you never met me to begin with? Have you moved on? Why didn’t you tell your parents about us? Do you still love me like I love you?_

“Something,” she lies, “Anything.”

“Hmm. Did you know that the first vending machine contraption was created to dispense holy water?”

“No way.”

“Yes, way.”

“You’re lying!”

“I’m serious. Some guy called the Hero of Alexandria did it.”

She squints at him, “Even his name sounds fake.”

“Wanna bet?” he smirks, exposing the dimple denting his cheek. She wants to run her finger across it.

“Ugh, no.”

Rey knows he’s right. Ben spends an obscene amount of time getting sucked in Reddit rabbit holes. She suspects he has some sort of photographic memory, considering the amount of information he retains. He loves his trivia. _Nerd,_ she used to tease him. _Your nerd_ , he would counter.

“What else, what else…”

Rey tucks her chin, pulling the hoodie’s drawstring tighter, hiding her growing fondness at the moment they’re having. She loves hearing him talk. She _misses_ hearing him talk.

“Did you know that a hashtag symbol is called an octothorpe?”

“Wait, why? What’s octo about it? It doesn’t have eight lines or anything.”

He shrugs and flashes her a full smile. The kind of smile that could launch a thousand ships. A smile that could thaw the frozen block of ice that took down the Titanic. A smile that tests her resolve to _resist temptation._

“Oh I think you’ll like this one. A baby puffin is called a puffling.”

“Shut up! That’s so cute!”

After a couple more facts, Rey playfully asks, “Do you just go through trivia pages and memorize them or something?”

A faint blush creeps on his face.

“Uh.” He sucks in a gulp of air, “I know you like hearing them. So I read up on a couple more before the drive up.”

He’s too good for her. He always was. And he still is.

“I was hoping you could tell me the answer to this, then.” It’s something she doesn’t know. Or maybe she does, and she just needs to hear it from him.

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself to ask the question that’s been gnawing at the back of her mind the longer she hears him talk. “Why didn’t you tell your parents about our break up?”

He stiffens, his expression hardening as he picks on an imaginary loose thread on his shirt, “Just didn’t get to it.”

“Ben,” she softly prods, scrutinizing the shift in his body language. The clench of his jaw, the twitch under his left eye, the pulse of his neck vein.

“I was busy,” he offers.

He’s a terrible liar. Rey knows it. He knows it.

She should let it go. She really should. But she doesn’t. Instead, she reaches out to touch his forearm. “Ben.”

There’s a long, long pause. And somewhere in the distance she hears a clock ticking.

“I didn’t want to tell them.” A sad smile ghosts his face once more.

“Why?” She catches her lower lip in between her teeth. Hard enough to almost draw blood, but evidently not hard enough to calm her nerves.

“Because,” he pauses, his gaze flicking from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes. “If I told them, if I said it out loud, then it’s actually over.”

“Ben.”

“And I didn’t want it to be over.”

She blames the warm glow of the fire, the comfort of his hoodie, the smell of pine and cinnamon and coffee, and the familiarity—sentimentality— _stupidity_ —of the whole situation for what she does next.

Which is cupping his warm cheek in her cold hand and planting a soft kiss right on the corner of his mouth.

There’s no good reason why she does it, other than because she’s been itching to do just that for two months now. Just a touch. Just a single moment where she can fully let herself believe that she gets to have him.

She starts to pull away, but not before Ben cradles the nape of her neck and holds her still, slanting his mouth just _right_ to actually kiss her.

His hands settle around her jaw, and he guides her with the tilt of his head. She lets out a small gasp, and that’s all it takes for him to deepen the kiss.

His tongue brushes against her lower lip, and it’s like her nerves are set aflame.

She pulls back, mostly because she needs to catch a breath but also because she’s reminded that there was a reason why she broke up with him in the first place.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Rey. That was—I shouldn’t have—”

“Ben—I—What if—”

“What?”

“I’m just—”

“You’re just?”

“You have your shit together, for crying out loud. You file your taxes on time? You dry-clean your clothes? You have a condo—your bag is _monogrammed_.”

He cocks his head to the side in confusion, furrowing his brows. “Do you resent my lifestyle?”

“No! No. You’ve worked really hard to get to where you’re at.” she clarifies, “And I’m proud of you for that.”

“So I don’t see what the problem is.”

Tears start to well in her eyes, and she swipes them off quickly with the frayed sleeve of his hoodie.

“I’m a nobody, okay?” she breathes out, in a moment of raw and hushed honesty.

“You’re not nobody.” His rebuttal comes quickly, and then softly. “Not to me.”

“What if one day you wake up and realize I’m not good enough for you? That I’m just holding you back from your true potential? That I’m just dead-weight. A burden. An unnecessary load. Because, Ben, you’re so, so good. And you deserve so, so much.”

Her fear—that it’s more than she can give him—remains unspoken, but Ben has always known how to tell what she’s really thinking.

His steely gaze meets hers, he takes a deep breath and says, “I don’t think it’s fair for you to decide what I do or don’t deserve, Rey.”

“What if we continue on and this all blows up and you end up resenting me even more? I just did us a favor by letting you go first before it gets even worse.”

“Okay. Listen to me. I hope you listen up real good.” He presses his forehead against hers, trapping her hand in between his hand and his chest. “Are you going to listen?”

Even though she’s nothing but stubborn, she nods. His heartbeat thrums steadily underneath her fingertips.

“What if _I_ think that _you_ are too good for me? What if that’s why we’re good for each other? What if you’re the best part of my day? The best part of my life? What if you’re the only one I wanna be with? What if you make me deliriously happy? Have you ever thought about any of that?”

She struggles to breathe when it’s apparent that she no longer has control over her own tears as they run in rivulets down her cheeks. She shakes her head quietly.

“I don’t know how to convince you to believe me. I really don’t. But, sweetheart, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. There’s no one else out there for me.” His voice begins to crack, and his eyes are misty with his own tears. “And if I have to spend the rest of my life trying to convince you that—and I’ll be damned if I don’t do my best—so be it.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to his heartfelt confession.

“Rey, I need you to understand that you—” he laces his fingers around hers, still warm and tight against his beating heart—his ever so steady beating heart, “You are more than enough.”

He brushes the lock of hair that’s pressed against her damp cheek and says, “You’re everything. You’re _it._ ”

She has a feeling that she’s not going to regret what she’s about to do next.

***

_I’ve missed you._

He hoists her onto his lap, kissing up and down the column of her throat, and eliciting breathless moans from her as she scrambles to pull the shirt off his back. She runs her lips along the shell of his ear.

_I’ve missed you, too._

She rolls her hips over his hardening bulge and his groan echoes throughout the room. She quiets him down by licking into his mouth, her tongue tracing each of his teeth— remembering and memorizing all at once.

_The only thing better than seeing you in my sweater is seeing you out of it._

He tucks his hand beneath her shirt, and she gasps in surprise at the warmth of his hands. She lifts her arms for him and Ben catches a nipple in his mouth even before her clothes hit the floor.

 _I’m sorry_.

She pushes her pants and underwear down, and they hang on her ankle before he yanks them off and flings them across the room. The Christmas tree rattles. His fingers dance above her ribcage.

_Tell me you’ll never leave again._

He pushes a finger deep in her wet heat, and then another, and then another. Her mind whites out with bliss when he crooks them _just so_ , dragging over the ridges along her inner wall over and over again.

_I’m really sorry._

He pulls his throbbing cock out, rubbing the head against her sensitive folds. He doesn’t take his eyes off her as he slides home.

_Be with me._

Her lips crash against his, her fingers buried deep in his hair. She bounces on him effortlessly. Naturally. As if no time has passed and her body just remembers everything it needs to know about him. Synchrony at its finest.

_Always._

He holds her tight, leaving hot, ragged breaths and open-mouth kisses against her sternum, while his thumb finds its way to rub circles around her clit. The coil tightening in her core threatens to snap.

_I love you._

The pleasure is blinding. She shudders through her orgasm, clutching his shoulders tightly, and her cunt flutters around his cock as he follows over the edge after four sharp thrusts.

_I know._

And she does.

***

Morning comes and sunlight filters through the window.

The fire is long gone. The snowfall ceases.

The Christmas tree lights up dimly in the corner, her pants caught in a branch.

Rey wakes up with an arm tightly wrapped around her waist, light puffs of air blowing against the nape of her neck.

They’re probably going to suffer bad backs and achy joints from sleeping on the floor. And maybe catch a cold from the lack of sleep (and the lack of clothes).

And if they don’t get up soon, there’s a good chance that his family might walk in on their compromising situation.

And one day they’ll look back through this series of harebrained ideas and barely thought-of plans and laugh at how silly it was.

But there’s no regrets. Not a single one.

Because she is his. And he is hers.

And _that_ is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> A heartfelt gratitude goes out to the generous and brilliant [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newseptembers) for the beta and hand-holding. She wrangled all my awkward phrasings and turned them into eloquent sentences.
> 
> All my love to the inimitable [Celia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celia_and) for the letting me bounce ideas off her and for being an inspiration. She's _definitely_ responsible for my venture into angst territory.
> 
> To my dearest, dearest friends who have endured all my whining and continually yelled at me to keep on writing...thank you and I love you all.
> 
> And to everyone who has read my silly little fics this past year, I can't begin to tell you just how much your support have powered and nourished me through this weird and wonky 2020.
> 
> Here's to a safer, healthier, and lovelier 2021!
> 
> P.S. Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spicytofuuuu)!


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